


Are You Still Running?

by CSLong



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Angst, Ben Solo is too Moody, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Modern AU, Rey is too Happy, Star Wars AU, Stormpilot, TROPES FOR DAYS, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, alternative universe, cliches, coincidences up the ass, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-22 00:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSLong/pseuds/CSLong
Summary: Rey is a pre-law student attending NYU on a scholarship from the Organa Foundation, on track to attend Columbia Law after she graduates.  One of her scholarship stipulations is that she volunteer at the Skywalker Hope House, a short term care facility for troubled adolescents.  Ben Solo, the disgraced son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, has returned to NYC to work with the Organa Foundation.  Rey is ridiculously sunshiny, Ben is ridiculously rain-cloudy, maybe they can help each other out.Inspired by the film Short Term 12





	1. Are You Kidding?

“You must be joking?”

Ben Solo was having a shitty morning. The fact that he had no high ground on which to stand on this, the shittiest of mornings, made it even worse. He was in no position to fight, to argue, or to bargain with the man grinning impishly from behind his desk.  Ben had known Poe Dameron for a long time. He had been an intern for his mother during her senatorial days, sickeningly devoted to Leia and frustratingly trusted by her, Dameron entered the Solo-Organa family with an ease that had always evaded Ben Solo. And now he was all but Leia’s second in command at the Organa Foundation, a fact that Ben bore with much suffering.

“I am absolutely not joking,” said Poe, pushing the thick file further across his desk toward Ben. Ben drew a sharp frustrated breath, his fingers dug into the sides of the plush chair he was sitting in. “I know it’s a far cry from sleeping your away through Europe on the First Order’s dime, buut, it’s a direct order from…”

“My mother,” he muttered darkly. He looked up at Poe, who was leaned back in his own chair, a natural ease oozing from his pores.

“That’s right,” said Poe.

“When I came back to the state I did so under the assumption that I would be working directly within Organa Foundations, not one of its sister organizations.”

“Well Ben,” said Poe with a bemused smile. “Way to dream big, but honestly you’ve shown zero interest in the Organa Foundation, except to stick up a big middle finger at it any chance you got, right up until old man Sno…”

“Shut up,” spat Ben angrily, a trembling warning in his eye. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about Dameron.”

Poe held out his palms in a peaceful gesture.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. But you really can see how your mother may not be entirely sure that you’re ready, and that you really are interested in this and it’s not just a passing interest.”

“I am absolutely not interested in being in charge of philanthropic giving, she’s right about that,” said Ben angrily. He could practically feel Poe take in a deep breathe, apparently stilling his own nerves as much as Ben was. “In fact,” he continued. “I can think of nothing I am less qualified for. I graduated from the Stern School of Business, and I have over 8 years of experience in project management and…”

“And,” cut off Poe, flipping open the file he had on his desk. “You get to bring all that expertise to the Skywalker Hope Houses.”

It seemed impossible that Ben’s stomach could have dropped any further.

“No…”

“Yes,” said Poe with a nod and shit-eating grin. “The vast network of houses from NYC to California and YOU are in charge of all of that money, all by yourself big guy.”

Ben could stand a lot of things…well, that wasn’t true, he could stand very little before flying into a fit of rage, but condescension was one that got him there faster.

“Dameron…” he said through gritted teeth.

“Come on Ben,” said Poe with a sigh. “I am just the messenger.” He sighed and leaned forward. Ben recognized that look, he had seen it many times; empathetic eyes furrowed in understanding, leaning forward unthreateningly as if he was really interested in what you were saying. Ben wasn’t crazy about Poe, but he knew the man was charming, a skill he had learned to use to his advantage. “But really she isn’t just putting you somewhere where you can’t cause any trouble. Skywalker Homes have boomed over the past five years, they have expanded faster then expected. Organa Foundations provides a great deal of support for them, and we want to make sure the resources are being used well, that none of the houses are suffering, especially the ones that are further away from Organa Headquarters.”

Ben could see how the placation may work on someone else, but it did little to sooth his own misgivings.

Ben certainly didn’t need to be lectured about how much the Skywalker House project meant to his family. It was one of the first things that the Organa Foundation did, the birth of a long-held dream by Luke and Leia, twins separated at birth, one raised by a well-to-do family, and the other in less ideal circumstances, coming together to create a bastion for the cast-off youth.

So goddamned inspirational; every fluff journalists wet dream.

Luke had a penchant for taking young people under his wing, helping them realize their calling and destiny and all that. Ben himself had been an intended project back when the Skywalker house had been just a twinkle in Luke’s eye, though he had balked at it.  But now he could do that with impunity.

And Ben wanted nothing to do with it. It was not that he objectively hated troubled youth or thought there shouldn’t be SOMEONE doing this, he just didn’t want to be the one doing it. And, like a moody teenager, everything his family did annoyed him; Luke could find a cure for cancer, and while he’d objectively celebrate the medical advancement, he’d wish someone else had got there first.

Petty? Yes.

Deserved? Probably not.

Plans to stop? Absolutely none.

But Poe was right. There wasn’t much more he could hope for. And had his place been switched with his mother, he knows for a fact he never would have allowed the prodigal son to return, to assume any responsibility for the family legacy.  So, when all was said and done, he recognized that it was by Leia’s grace that he even has a job. Especially after everything that happened with First Order Enterprises…not many places would touch him now.

So, he crawled back to them, Leia and Han; bruised and battered, tail between his legs.  And now, he had to add Luke into the mix as well.  Ben reached onto the desk and took the thick file.

“Thank you,” said Poe. Ben just nodded curtly before standing to leave and crossing the room to the door.

“Ben…” He froze a the door, back still to Poe. “We’re glad to have you back.”

Ben breathed in. He was here. He had made his bed, and while every extinct in him told him to make it as miserable for everyone else as it is for him, he couldn’t afford to self-sabotage on this.

“Thanks, Dameron,” he said cooly, before stalking out of the Poe’s office.

He stood out in the hallway for a moment, flipping through the file filled with bank statements, tax information, explanations of benefits, spending reports and everything in between. This, at least was a little familiar. Numbers, whether with a non-profit or with an international banking institution, were the same.

There was a small comfort in that.

*****

“Are you fucking kidding me Finn?”

“Rey!”

“What?!”

“Language; you’d drop a privilege for that if it were one of your kids.”

“Then drop me a fucking privilege Finn; namely the privilege of showing some spoiled-ass brat around like I need to justify anything to him…”

“Reey…” Finn’s voice traveled through the phone piece, gentle and anchoring, reminding her over again why he’s so good at his job.  “Breathe in.”

Rey closed her eyes and gripped the phone tightly in her hand, trying calm herself.

Rey had been having such a wonderful morning; an obnoxiously wonderful morning, a “cartoon blue bird singing on her shoulder” kind of morning. She had awoken to an email that declared her evening class had been canceled, the morning had been a perfect temperature for her bike ride to the Skywalker Hope House, and there were no incidences logged in the book that required immediate attention.

All in all, a perfect morning only to be ruined by a phone call from one of her favorite people in the world.

“Look,” she said. “My kids are not some window dressing I should have to trot out for anyone. I don’t understand why Luke can’t just tell them to mind their own damn business…”

“Well Rey, the Organa Foundation is over half of our funding so it’s very much their business…”

“So why me?” she asked a whine in her voice. “Rose is so much nicer why…”

“Because, Rey, you’ve been their the longest, you have the most responsibility, you’re the daytime supervisor…”

Rey let out a labored sigh. She was being a brat. She knew that. She looked wearily at her small desk, covered in photo’s, drawn pictures, and letters; collected over her three years at Skywalker house. It had started out as a volunteer position, a stipulation for her scholarship from the Organa Foundation, but after two years, Finn promoted her to a paid position as a part-time day supervisor. During that time, Skywalker House had become a second home to her. She had poured her heart and soul into the house and the kids there, she worried over the kids, laughed with them and cried with them.  But this…showing around some suit trying to prove that the money is being well-spent put her on edge.

“But you’re the director! Wouldn’t you…”

“Rey I’m a very busy man.”

“And I’m busy,” she all but yelped. “Too busy to play hostess to a transient son who climbed the all mighty ladder of nepotism to get here…”

Finn fell silent for a moment before speaking.

“You’re so right, I should’ve gotten Rose to do this…”

“Shut up,” she said. “I’ll do fine. But I want you to know I am not happy about this.”

“So noted.”

“And I can’t promise that he won’t know I am happy about it.”

“Well from what I have heard about Ben Solo, he won’t be thrilled to be there either. So resist your natural, law-student urges and don’t alienate the son of Leia Organa.”

“Fine,” she said, making sure the pout in her voice was heard through the phone. “But you’re taking me out for drinks tonight.”

“If you insist.”

“You’re paying.”

“Don’t I always.”

“I’m a broke student.”

“Understood.”

“And I plan to pout and bitch the whole time.”

“I expected nothing less.”

“Fine…”

She could all but here Finn smile.

“Love you, peanut.”

“Love you, too.”

She hung up the phone and slumped back into her chair, her eyes flitting toward the clock on the wall.

6:45 am…

Wake up call in 15 minutes.

She suddenly felt tired.

And the morning had been going so well.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben stood outside of the NYC Skywalker House. It was one story, but long and wide, the concrete walls were covered in chalk art, some, he had to admit, were quite impressive and elaborate. It was surrounded by a well-kept lawn and a small gate that looked as though it were more for show then anything else.

He blinked into the bright orange sun, taking in the whole building, trying to orient himself toward a front door, but all he could see was an emergency exit.

…Must have parked in the back.

He began to make his way around the building, but froze when he heard a shrill alarm emitting from the building.  He jerked up toward the emergency exit as it flung open with a deafening crash, just in time to catch a the blur of a boy sprinting across the lawn, screaming at a pitch as ungodly as the alarm, then a half a second later another blur flew past him, a young woman reaching out toward the boy.

Without thinking, Ben dropped his briefcase and sprinted in their direction. The pursuant was fast, obviously not new to the chase, but his longer limbs gave him enough length to reach out and wrap an arm around the boy’s chest. Not wanting to yank him down, Ben opted to drop into a slide on the grass, easily bringing the boy down with him.  In a flash, the girl was on the ground beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gripping him tights as he thrashed against their arms.

“Let me go, you bitch!”

His scream rang out high and loud as he frantically kicked at the dew-wet grass. Ben looked at the young woman, she didn’t seem taken aback at all by the name, but held tightly to the boy, looking down at him with a kind firmness.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” she soothed. “It’s okay.”

“…Stop touching me,” he yelled. “I’ll sue you!”

“Really,” she said, with a surprising lilt of amusement in her voice. “Do you have suing money, Sammy?”

He let out another loud and feral howl that made Ben wince.

“There you go,” she said calmly. “Let it out, bud.”

Sammy slumped forward, heavy heaves racking his thin, lanky body.  She rubbed his back soothingly, making calming “sshh” noises. She kept a firm hand on the other arm, in case he made another dash. Yes, this certainly was not new for her, he thought, as she comforted him with the practiced air of a parent.

“You’re okay,” she said. Sammy sniffled, his head still bent, face obscured by his bright red hair. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before the woman loosened her grip and moved to her knees so she was knelt in front of Sammy.

“Ready for breakfast now,” she asked, her voice still calm and measured. Sammy nodded, and the woman stood up, gently pulling him to his feet.

“Go on,” she said, nodding toward the door. “Make sure you get your medicine, okay?”

He nodded again and slowly trudged toward the building, moving with a worn, lethargy that was so different then the blur of movement he had just seen. When he was gone, Ben turned to the young woman, getting a good view of her for the first time, all earth tones, a wide smile, and concentrated energy.

“Thank you,” she said, taking a deep breathe, her arms resting on her hips. “You really saved me a headache of a day there. If he gets past there…” she pointed to the gate. “I can’t touch him; which means I would just have to wander around New York City all until he decided to come back.” She let out a tired laugh.  “Once I followed one of our kids around until 8 at night, to make sure that he didn’t get into any trouble. By the time he got hungry enough to want to come back, I had no idea where we were…”

Ben suddenly had the sensation of being in a whirlwind, she spoke quickly, as if all of her words were, somehow, carried on a single breathe. She gestured wildly with her hands, her eyebrows bobbing up in down, her whole face moving with her expressions. It was…overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, a self-deprecating laugh in her tone. She held out a hand to him. “I’m Rey. I’m one of the day-time supervisors here.”

“Oh yes,” said Ben, shaking her hand. “I’m Ben…Ben Solo….does uh…does that happen a lot?”

******

Rey felt her face fall.

Oh shit…

This was Ben Solo. She kicked herself for not even thinking that the man who she had never seen before could be the one that Finn had told her was coming. But she had been so caught up in moment, all the stress of the visiting Organa representative had fled her thoughts. But now taking in business attire, now crumpled and grass-stained and the eerily perfect hair, she felt her whole demeanor shift. Her arms crossed instinctively, and she stood straight, her chin raised imperiously.

“Does what happen a lot,” she asked.

Be good, she could all but here Finn’s voice in her ears. Hear the wailing of children cast out of their one safe space as she single-handedly alienated Skywalker House’s biggest donor. Not to mention the people who had picked up her tab for school. It would be a shame to lose her scholarship in her final year, the LSAT’s just around the corner.

But, the bloody yank looked so…so…something that was rubbing her the wrong way… she wasn’t quite sure that could help herself.

“Uh…just what happened…just now?”

“No,” she said sharply. “Sammy is just a little manic. He’s on medication but he still has episodes from time to time, but we have it under control.”

“Okay,” he said. He regarded her with a look of confusion, clearly thrown off by her sudden shift in demeanor.  “I think you and I will be working together for a bit.”

“Yes,” she said. “SO I’ve been told, but I haven’t been told exactly, why, or what exactly you’ll be doing.”

“Well,” he said slowly. “right now the Organa Foundation has put me in charge of the charitable support for the Skywalker House…”

Then, just like that, like a giggle at funeral, a pornhub video started with the headphones only halfway in, the derisive snort flew from her lips.

Fuck, she thought.

“Excuse me,” he said. ‘Something you would like to say?”

So many things, she thought, priding herself that it was only in her head and not allowed.

“So you’re here to make sure that your money is being put to good use then, is that it?”

“Well, that’s only a small part…”

“As in not being wasted on paying a supervisor to walk around the city making sure a sixteen year old boy is safe…”

“That is not even a little bit what I said…”

She saw his jaw twitch with annoyance.

“Well I can save you some time,” she said, tersely. “I can tell by your suit and a little by the hair that you are a very busy man, so I’ll tell you, no the money is not being put to good use. I have called, and emailed and even marched up to the main office, begging for less boxes of toys, and just one more staff counselor; one less photographer paid to come and trapes out 5 African American students, 3 Latino children, and 2 white children for the goddamn brochure and just a little bit more money behind our art supplies…but I’ve been completely ignored time and time again, so perhaps if you want to make sure that the money is being put to good use there are better places for you to start looking.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Have I offended you in some way?”

_Can you just calm down_ , she scolded herself.

_No,_ another part of her protested. _He deserves to be destroy, look at that hair, and that suit, and those come-hither-I-need-hep-and-direction eyes._

“No,” she said. “I’m not offended. I just…” she breathed deeply.

_Come on Rey, get it together. This is exactly what you weren’t supposed to do and you lasted all of five seconds._

She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew that deep down. But this was all too familiar; someone who had power over you, someone who had no right to have power over you demanding that you justify yourself to them.

_“…Don’t bite the hand that feeds you…”_

_“…after all I’ve done for you…”_

_“…I put a roof over your head so you’ll do what I say…”_

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the feeling of a headache latching on to the back of her neck. This wasn’t that, and Ben Solo, for all  the flaws she had no trouble assuming he had, was not _him._

“I’m not offended,” she said. “I just…I’m a little put off that I suddenly have to put a dollar amount on everything we do in a day, when the previous man who was supposed to be working with us could only be bothered to show up for photo op’s.”

“And who was that?’

“I don’t know,” she said. “Some red-head; hot in a Gestapo kind of way, but a huge asshole….Hugs, maybe?’

“Hux?”

She nodded.

“Oh yes, asshole indeed. But…” he said slowly. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to be a little more helpful.”

She looked at him, eyes still narrowed slightly, but she felt her body unclenching slightly.

“Do you really want to help, Mr. Solo?”

He nodded.

“Then I would much rather meet somewhere else, later this week. When I’ve had some time to get some numbers together, and when it won’t distract from my supervisorial duties. We don’t have a lot of staff, and I hope you won’t be offended when I say that I really don’t have…”

He held up a hand. Rey felt her heart clench. Finn was going to be pissed.

“Show him around…sell what we’re doing… make him feel appreciated…” those had been her directives, and she had deviated from those ever so slightly.

“Not offended in the least,” he said. “I understand that this has been disruptive for your day, and it’s difficult to have a conversation if both parties aren’t prepared.”

Rey’s shoulder’s lowered from their raised position, a little surprised. She had not been polite, and he seemed like someone who could easily be used to having his ego stroked. But his expression remained calm, if not interested, with only a tad of annoyance brewing under the surface.

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a card.

“This has my office number,” he said. “When you feel prepared, please call me and we can meet to discuss next steps in our working relationship and how I can best support you.”

She dumbly took the card from between his fingers and snatched it away quickly.

“Okay,” she said.

“It has the address, but given that you “marched” all the way down there to make your demands known I am assuming you know where it is.”

She felt so conflicted. Some part of her wanted to apologize; he had remained calm in the midst of her tirade. But she didn’t feel bad enough about it to apologize. She isn’t quite yet convinced that she was wrong about him. The calmness itself seemed to be smug, and that was enough to put her off.

“Thank you,” she finally said.

He nodded and leaned over to pick up his briefcase which he had discarded in the chase.

“And thank you Miss…”

“Rey…” she said. “Rey is…Rey is fine.”

He nodded and held out his hand to give hers a parting shake.

“Have a nice day Rey.”

“You too, Mr. Solo.”

She watched his exceptionally broad, retreating back, and looked down at the card.

Finn was so not buying her a drink tonight.

******

Ben had a short temper. It was both a great strength and a great weakness. A great strength because it typically intimidating subordinates enough that he was rarely bothered with things that were not of the utmost importance. It also had, historically, meant that people had exhausted every possible solution before daring to come to him…his own way of bringing out the best in people, he had told his colleagues. But it was also a weakness. Because he could not always control who was on the receiving end, and it made people weary to do business with someone they deemed…emotionally unstable.

And as soon as that…that _girl…_

_Woman, Ben, com on, you’re better then that…_

…that woman raised her voice at him, he had felt it prickling beneath his skin, itching to get out. It had happened so abruptly, he barely had time to keep up. One minute she was a perfectly cordial hostess, personable, if not a bit loquacious, and in the span of his name she had grown as prickly as a cactus; all sass and judgement.

But, for some odd reason, as her attacks grew more desperate, more made of frustration then any real bite, he found he was able to quiet the temper brewing in him. He was used to people yelling at him, he was not an easy person to like (so he’d been told), but his own response to her was surprising, even to him.

Perhaps he was growing?

But the far more likely scenario was that he was usually provoked by incompetence, rather then righteous indignation, has misplaced as it may have been- there was something a bit more…endearing about it.

He felt as though she could have called him any insult under the sun, and it would have just made him curious about her rage, rather than provoke any return fire.

Besides, if he was going to prove himself worthy of anything other than a glorified treasurer, worthy of being in board rooms and making actual meaningful decision for the Foundation, he would have to not alienate difficult people on his first day; including bottom rung people who looked as though they were barely out of high school who insist on flying into inexplicable fits of rage.

He had handled much worse

*****

“Peanut…”

“I know…”

“I should fire you.”

“I know.”

“Or at least demote you.”

“I know.”

“I gave you one job.”

“I KNOW!”

“And what, pray tell, happened to “show him around” from my mouth to your ears that made it turn into “insult and alienate the son of our benefactor and nephew of our founder?”

“You know what, he was a lot more understanding then you are, “she said, sipping at her margarita.

“That’s because you’re cute,” said Finn.

“So true.”

“That works better on straight men then it does on me.”

“A fact that I am more then prepared to use as a lawyer,” she said, raising her head in feaux-pride. “Disarm them with my appearance of sweetness and then gut them like fishes.”

“Don’t you want to go into family law?”

“Yeah…” she said. “A lot of sleazes involved there, a lot of chances to gut them with my lightsaber like wit.”

Finn rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer.

“By the way,” continued Rey. “You could have warned me that Ben Solo was…uh…”

“What?”

“Not what I expected,” she said with an attempt at a dismissive shrug.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was picturing someone a little more villainous, I mean in a movie the rich guy in a suit coming down from the heights of corporate to tighten the belt on charitable giving looks a bit more…moustache-twirly-creature-in-a-mask-esque.”

Finn raised an amused eyebrow.

“You know what Leia and Han look like right?”

“Yeah…”

“Why would you expect anything else other then a Disney prince with perfect hair?”

She gave an assenting nod and leaned back in her seat.

“You know,” said Finn with a teasing smile. “In the movies where the guy in a suit comes down from the heights of corporate for some belt-tightening…”

She looked at him confused and nodded slowly.

“…If they have hair like a Disney prince they always end falling in love with the brilliant, sun-shiny woman who works with troubled children and has a heart of gold.”

Rey scrunched up her nose, like she had smelled something gross and then made a gagging sound.

“Sounds like a bad Hallmark movie.”

“Pffft…don’t act like we haven’t spent the last three Christmases on my couch with hot cocoa stressed about whether the leading lady is going to choose her high-powered career over the wood-witling inn-keeper.”

She raised her margarita to him. “No where else I’d rather be on Christmas, Finn.”

“Same, Peanut, same.”

 

 

 


End file.
